The Second Stage Turbine Blade
by Notomys
Summary: The fact that Coheed and his wife Cambria are unable to remember the first twenty years of their life has always made them uneasy. Their lives are turned upside down when they discover the implications their unknown past has on their children's futures.
1. The Second Stage Turbine Blade

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, the characters, world and general storyline are property of Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria.  
Coheed and Cambria is a concept band. Their songs detail an epic science fiction story. This fanfiction is an interpretation of the story contained in their songs and comics, it isn't a fanfiction about the band, and thus does not violate any of TOS._

* * *

_God created the planets. He formed them out of nothing and set them silently spirally in space. He then created the Stars of Sirius, and the Keywork was formed. The Stars would hold he planets still, and keep them safe from the hazards of space. God called this Heaven's Fence. God knew that he could not stay on his Fence forever, so he created three races to watch over his work. He created the Prise and gave them the task of looking over the mechanics of his Keywork. He created the Mages and appointed them the masters of the other races, they were to ensure that God's will was done. Then he created the Humans, and upon them he bestowed the ability to live safely and prosper in the glory of God's creation._

_But God left them to their own devices with nothing but a prophecy that spoke, "If Man should decide to dabble in my affairs, then Guardian must intervene. But should I decide to bring my change across the face of man with you there to challenge me, then I shall return with the fires if Sirius to destroy all I have made. Whether man or I present that danger will not be told until the coming."_

_Even in the beginning the coming was close at hand._

The air inside the factory was thick and stuck to the throats of the workers. Most of the men were young, it was incredible how quickly the monotonous labor broke them. They came into the place with vibrant souls and flashing eyes. Their eyes would grow dimmed and glassy before the month was over. The older man fared little better. They, unlike their young counterparts didn't have dreams to crash and kill. Their lives rotated for more mundane ambitious, usually the support and care of their families.

Coheed Kilgannon fell into the latter group. He had first come to the factory nearly twenty years ago, dazed, confused and desperate for a job. While it wasn't unusual for young men to knock on the factory doors in such a state pleading for employment Coheed had always stuck out in the manager's mind as a special case. Coheed barely seemed to remember his own name, and the manager had a sneaking suspicion that Kilgannon was just a name he made up on the spot. Still, he seemed earnest enough (was in fabulous physical condition to boot) and his drug tests came back clean. He earned himself a place in the factory, and years later, still held it. Like most of the older men, he managed to survive by working for things other than himself. The thing that kept him going through the long days was his family.

He chopped up his days and swallowed them like pills. Being a man who liked to think in the present he vary rarely let his mind wander to his foggy early days, or upon the depressing proposition that he would be spending the rest of his working days inside of a stuffy factory. Today had been rougher than normal for a plethora of reasons. It was Labor day (and one of those obnoxiously beautiful September days). True enough, overtime meant overtime pay, but there was something inexplicably depressing about working with the knowledge that one should be enjoying the last days of summer with one's family. That was enough to gloss his mood darkly, but the thing that truly wriggled into his side and stuck was the fact that he and his oldest daughter had been fighting.

Fighting perhaps wasn't strong enough of a word. Coheed and his oldest daughter had been conducting their own private war. Josephine had always been a willful girl. Her 22 years had been marked with a series of increasingly fervent arguments with her father. Coheed had the sneaking suspicion that this time something serious was going to come of their fights. After several hours of screaming, "I love him!" and "He's a bloody bastard!" she had stormed out of their house. Nobody had heard from her since. Coheed wasn't exactly worried, she was an adult, and he was nearly certain that she had gone to the New Jersey colony to visit her no-good boyfriend.

Only, he wasn't her boyfriend anymore. He was her fiancée.

As Coheed pulled himself through his daily motions he couldn't help but wish that some horrible accident would befall Patrick, or at the very least that Josephine and he would get into some sort of argument and call off the engagement. Coheed couldn't imagine anything worse than having to call that low-life son. He resolved that he would talk to his wife about the whole thing. Cambria had always been close to Josephine, and perhaps she could take some sense into their daughter. That's what he would do. He would talk to Cambria and have her deal with it.

Much to his surprise, as this conclusion was reached, the closing bell rang. While the sound was horrible, hallow and miserable much like most of the factories workers, it signaled the end of the shift. Coheed wearily gathered his belongings and prepared for the trek back home. His car had chosen that morning to give up the ghost, and although the factory wasn't far from where he worked, it was another thing to dampen Coheed's day. The sun had already begun to set, and a surprising chill had fallen over the streets of the city. The streets were oddly quiet. With all of the political mess that had been happening, this wasn't entirely surprising. The police were out in full force and ready to arrest anybody with even the slightest code violation. Most people just kept their heads down and went outside as infrequently as possible (damned car). Still, it was strange to see the normally crowded streets nearly empty.

Coheed suddenly became uneasy. He couldn't exactly explain what he felt. It wasn't like Valley Hills was a bad area. Its name was rather ironic, as being the industrial center of the planet, looming factories and highways had replaced most of the valleys and hills. And while it was true that everybody was on edge, he knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. He was a good, honest blue-collar worker returning home to his family after a long day at work. He found it strange that just as these words crossed his mind, the empty void that was his early memory popped into his head. Most people knew who their parents were. Most people knew what happened to them during the throws of puberty. Most people could remember where they met their wife and why they suddenly appeared in a city.

Then, as if cued by his thoughts, a single black car slowly snaked down the road. Coheed recognized the car as one of the Red Army's cruisers. Wanting no trouble he politely adverted his eyes from the driver and increased his pace. Then he heard the siren. He looked around, hoping vainly that he wasn't the only one on the street (He had done nothing wrong!) but saw that his hopes were in vain. The door of the cruiser opened and from within a huge man unfolded himself. In a cold voice he said, "Coheed Kilgannon. The Red Army has received a warrant for your arrest. Put your hands up."


	2. Time Consumer

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, the characters, world and general storyline are property of Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria._

_Coheed and Cambria is a concept band. Their songs detail an epic science fiction story. This fanfiction is an interpretation of the story contained in their songs and comics, it isn't a fanfiction about the band, and thus does not violate any of TOS. It is also important to note that Claudio Kilgannon is not the same person as Claudio Sanchez. C. Sanchez, the lead singer and brain of the band has publicly admitted that he giving the lead character in his story his name._

* * *

Coheed stood with his mouth slightly ajar. He knew that he looked like a bovine idiot, but he couldn't think of a more suitable, or dignified reaction. As the man approached him, Coheed mentally ran over the things he had done recently, searching desperately for something that might've made the Army put a warrant out for his arrest. Josephine had been written up a handful of times for curfew violations. Last week Cambria had bought some wine from sector 9, did she get it on the black market? Coheed was so consumed with his internal quest to determine what he was guilty of, that he was completely ignorant of the fact that his arrester wasn't entirely human. The man looked Coheed over carefully, had he the eyes of a human one might've seen a glimmer of admiration. After determining that Coheed was unarmed he ordered gruffly, "Get into the car."

At this point Coheed made the realization that the man was a robot. There were plenty of robots of various degrees of sophistication in the factor he worked at, and it was uncommon to find that the pretty girl serving coffee at the local café was plugged in and recharged every night, but to his knowledge, the Army had not integrated robots into its service. He could remember some sort of controversy about how getting robots involved in the war would dehumanize the whole thing, and make killing too easy. For a few fleeting seconds he considered refusing. He knew that getting into the car would put him in a completely helpless position. The man had showed him no proof of his identity. Growing slightly bolder Coheed shook his head, "It's in my rights to ask why I'm being arrested."

"You are in no position to argue with me."

The tone of the other man sent chills down Coheed's spine, but he stood his ground, "Yes I am. I want to see your identification papers. I want to know how the hell you know my name, and I want to know what I did to get arrested without any warnings."

With something like a smile the man reached into his pocket. Coheed winced, believing that a gun was about to be pulled on him. Although he tried to keep his face impassive, Coheed was terrified. He had heard stories of men being picked off of the streets by the army, never to be heard of again. Cambria didn't work: she had the twins to take care of. If he vanished his family would find themselves starving in the streets. However, before his mind could leap to any real conclusion, a card which identified the man as Mayo Deftinwolf of the Red Army was produced and brandished in Coheed's general direction. He slid the card back into his pocket, "The Red Army has been following you and your wife for decades. You're being charged with terrorism. It is well in my power to kill you here and now. I suggest you keep mindful of that."

Coheed tried to stammer that he was an innocent man, but the words wouldn't spill out of his mouth in the order that he willed them. The man's card had looked official. But the concept of being charged with terrorism would've been laughable if it didn't have a death sentence nailed to it. Coheed weighed his options and got into the back seat of the car. He was surprised that Mayo had made no gestures to restrain him, or even prove his identity. He had quietly and tried to keep his wits about him. Mayo closed the door behind him and took his place in the driver's seat, "You and I are about to discuss highly confidential material. You and your wife are also about to disappear."

At this Coheed snapped, "I haven't done anything though! Hail Wilhelm and may his regime last a thousand years. I've done nothing!"

"Not that you remember."

These four words sent Coheed reeling. He stretched his brain and tried vainly to recall what had happened when he was younger, before he and Cambria had appeared in sector 11. Nothing came to him. From the front seat he heard mechanical sounding laughter, "No…not that I remember. I've," He once again tried to plea his piece, but his words fell short.

"You were a member of a three-person organization known as the KBI. I'm sure you've wondered all of these years why you can't remember anything of your life before you were twenty?"

Their was a certain tone of cold malice in Mayo's voice that made Coheed's stomach turn. Possible answers to an enigma that he had long wondered were frothing in his mind. His imagination leapt from one impossibility to another, with the knowledge that perhaps the impossibilities were not as impossible as he had initially assumed. Finally, after some time of playing with his tongue and his teeth he found what he was trying to say, "Dear God…Please sir. Tell me."

"I'm far from God, but I've been sent here by my own master to tell you what your past holds," Mayo spoke with a triumph, "My men and I discovered you and your team before you ever had a chance to be an active force against Wilhelm. Had previous measures not been taken you would've been dead and gone long ago. However, your creators had planned ahead."

"Creators…what the hell, who…?"

"I assume that you're familiar with Antillarea?"

Coheed nodded his head. Antillarea was the whole reason behind every law-abiding citizen's angst. She had allegedly based herself out of sector 11. Nobody was happy with the fact that a terrorist was nestled in their midst, "Of course sir."

"Your creator was a man named Dr. Leonard Hohenberger. We believe that he was one of Antillarea's followers. Coheed Kilgannon, you're a robot."

Coheed felt something like a giggle burst forth from his throat. First he was accused of terrorism, not he was being told that he was a robot, "I'm sorry sir, but my wife and I…we've had children. Four children. Robot's can't…"

"You and your wife happen to be some of the most advanced pieces of technology in the Keywork. Not only in your verisimilitude, but in, certain safety precautions installed into your systems. This is why we are addressing you now."

At this point, Coheed noticed that they were slowly driving in the general direction of his home. His heart was suddenly in his throat, Cambria was involved with this too…his world seemed to be slowly spinning apart. Mayo continued to speak, "You see, your creators invested a good deal of money and time in your creation, they naturally wanted to safeguard their work. However, Antillerea, having no sense of moral responsibly violated every possible code placed down by man, mage, prise and God. You are infected with a sophisticated computer virus known simply as the MONSTAR. If activated, it will destroy the Star of Sirius closest to you."

"What?"

"Coheed Kilgannon, you are programmed to destroy the world."

Coheed was rendered speechless. Not only were Mayo's words becoming more and more fat fetched (He was a simple factory worker…destroying the Star's of Sirius…it couldn't be…) but faint memories of a previous age were flickering back to him. He used to have a name other than Coheed. The beast? He shook the images from his head and gathered himself, he gruffly responded, "I guess you'll have to kill me."

"I'm afraid I won't have that privilege. You see, matters get more complicated. You have four children?  
"Correct."

"Well, when the Red Army discovered the KBI, Antillerea threatened to activate the MONSTAR virus. We couldn't risk something like that, so we compromised. You and your wife would be permitted to live, if your memories were wiped. We saw no harm in letting a good strong back contribute to the work force. We figured that with you're memory gone there would be no danger from the MONSTAR."

Coheed nodded, "You are merciful. Wilhelm is the best thing that's happened to the government since…"

He let his voice trail, unable to come up with a conclusion. He could tell that the world was about to fall on his shoulders, and he just wanted to get it over with. Mayo languidly continued, "We were sadly mistaken. At their conception, your children were infected with a mutation of the MONSTAR virus. Our scientists have dubbed it the SINSTAR. It possesses nearly all of the traits of the MONSTAR, with one vital exception. The MONSTAR can only be activated under very particular circumstances, and it can be deactivated. However, the SINSTAR will activated automatically when the child turns 23--"

Coheed blurted out, "Josephine's birthday is next week."

"Which is why the time has come for the Red Army to remove you and your family from civilian life. I'm afraid that your children are going to have to die. They cannot be saved. It's been determined that it is best if they all die now, although Josephine's virus is the only one in immediate danger of activation. You and your wife are going to be taken under the custody of the Red Army."

"I…"

"I'm doing you a favor. You are to ensure that all of your children are dead by 21:13 tonight. We have prepared a poison for you to give them, it is odorless and flavorless. They will die quickly and painlessly. My men will come to pick you up, and finish the deeds that have been left undone. Mr. Kilgannon, you shouldn't look at me like that. We all have flaws. Yours just happens to be an issue of national security."

Coheed said flatly, "You're asking me to murder my children."

"Now when did I say murder? I'm merely asking you to help be," Mayo added caustically, "Besides, you should see it as a privilege, every father should hope to spare their children a painful death. 21:13 tonight. Don't try to run."

At that point the car slowly rolled to a stop in front of Coheed's home. A case of poison was exchanged between the two men, and Mayo drove away. Coheed slowly walked up his driveway, his mind reeling with the information he had just been fed. He knew that it was true. It had to be true. There were so many blank spaces in his life that needed to be filled. They had been filled with news he could barely comprehend.

Cambria was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him. Her delicate legs were crossed and she held herself tightly, as if she was afraid of falling apart. She didn't look up when Coheed wearily entered the room, she just said like a sigh, "You've heard."

Coheed nodded. He suddenly felt impossibly old. Cambria began to fiddle with a few strands of her dark hair. She slowly pulled the strands apart and stared as if they contained all of the answers to the ills of the world, "They called me today. Told me. Coheed. They've told you…didn't they? They told me you'd bring…"

She found herself unable to continue speaking. She was fighting frantic tears and losing. Coheed fought the urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Instead he just looked at the briefcase on the table and slowly proclaimed, "We have to do it my dear…"

She nodded, "I know but…I…it doesn't feel right."

"I don't know what else to do."

She searched frantically for other options, things that would remove them from the terrible deed they needed to commit, "I can't. I can't kill them."

"You don't need do. I will do it"

"No, Coheed—I."

"We don't have a choice. Where are they."

"The twins are in their room."

Coheed felt his heart leap up into his throat and fought nausea. His two youngest children, they would never get a chance to live. They could never understand the situation, at least with Josephine and Claudio he could explain…he could beg them for forgiveness. He slowly opened the briefcase, inside, as he expected was a small vial filled with clear liquid, and a note which read simply, "21:13" Wincing Coheed took the bottle in his hands, "There is only one thing we can do. The Red Army obviously wants us dead. We will poison the children and then take our own lives."

Cambria said absently, "Josephine's not home. Claudio isn't going to be home until late, he's with his girlfriend…Coheed. I don't want to see my son die."

Coheed was silent. He stood slowly and found himself mixing a bottle at the kitchen sink. It was almost funny, it was a ritual he had done thousands of times before. Come home as tired as an old dog to meet with his wife. They would sit at the kitchen table and talk while the twins were down for their naps. He would ask where their two older children were, she would tell him that they were out…he would make the twins a bottle and wake them up. Only this time, this time they wouldn't be awake for long.

He added the poison to the bottle. Everything around him seemed to be moving impossibly slowly. His world had narrowed down to the thing he was about to do. As he walked upstairs he thought that he could hear Cambria's sobs, but he couldn't be sure, nothing really could be heard over the pounding of his own heart in his head. He slowly opened his children's door. They weren't asleep, they never were. Cambria insisted that they take a nap in the afternoon. They sprung awake at the sight of their father's form in the door. Coheed tried to keep his voice calm, and plastered a fake smile over his face. There was no reason to scare them, "Maria! My star…oh Matthew…you've grown since this morning haven't you?"

The young boy smiled sheepishly and nodded in the manor of young children. Coheed patted him on the head and passed him a bottle, "I brought you something to tide you over before supper. Mommy's tired tonight so it will probably be late."

He found himself talking to keep himself from sobbing. Maria and Matthew took the bottles and began to suckle at once. Slowly, Coheed noticed subtle changes overcome them. Their movements became less controlled, something glassy appeared in their eyes. Matthew dropped his bottle and staggered drunkenly towards Coheed. Coheed picked his son up and held him close before putting him back in bed, "Goodnight Matthew."

Maria had fallen to the ground. Coheed stared at the bodies of his two children, unable to process what had just happened. He found himself affixed to the spot. From behind him he heard a wailing, "No! You killed them!"

Coheed spun around to see Cambria standing in the threshold of the door, tears and snot ran freely down her chin, "You killed them."

"They died painlessly. We're the only ones who hurt."

"You killed them!"

"But the only pain involved was ours."

"When we stopped feeling their pulse! You killed my babies!"

Her voice was a shrill wail that seemed otherworldly. She stumbled into the room and Coheed found her fists pummeling his chest as she cried out. Coheed grabbed her shoulders firmly and tried to get her to look at him. They locked eyes and this seemed to calm her, "We had no choice. The Army was going to kill them anyway."

Faintly, Cambria said, "It's a trap. You know that. You know that the law will never forgive us for this. This forces us to ally ourselves with the Army."

"Did we have a choice. If we didn't we'd be killed for treason. At least, at least, by God's will we're still alive."

Cambria wrenched herself from her husband's hands. She was trembling and inside of her head she was cursing the name of God. She could never forgive him for putting her into this life, for taking away her choices. A transformation seemed to overcome her. Something like a grim smile crossed her face as she thought, _Dear God. You're the one who will never be forgiven. _This seemed to make her feel better, although she wasn't sure exactly why. Something inside of her could tell that God was listening to the words that she spoke, and that he was seething in his own sort of anger. She turned to her husband, "Claudio and Josephine are not going to be home by 21:13. We must bide our time until the Army comes and explain this to them."

"Dear God. Consume me."


	3. Devil in Jersey City

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, the characters, world and general storyline are property of Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria. Coheed and Cambria is a concept band. Their songs detail an epic science fiction story. This fanfiction is an interpretation of the story contained in their songs and comics, it isn't a fanfiction about the band, and thus does not violate any of TOS. It is also important to note that Claudio Kilgannon is not the same person as Claudio Sanchez. C. Sanchez, the lead singer and brain of the band has publicly admitted that he giving the lead character in his story his name._

* * *

After Coheed and Cambria had killed their two youngest, they were left with a conundrum. They had several hours before a representative from the Red Army was coming to pick them up, and nothing to occupy their minds save the blood that was on their hands. The only things that the could think about were Maria and Matthew, lying cold on the floor, and the growingly apparent fact that they were not going to be able to take the lives of their two oldest easily. It was unlikely even that they would be able to do so before the Red Army came. Claudio's curfew was 24:00. He was spending the evening with his girlfriend, it was highly unlikely that he would be home by 21:13…and as for Josephine, they only had the vaguest idea of where she was. The terrifying prospect of what would happen if she wasn't killed loomed heavy in the back of their minds. The concept of the planets of sector 11 flying wantonly through the universe sent shivers down their spines.

Meanwhile, Josephine was glowering in the passenger seat of her fiancée's car. She had spent the better part of the last hour complaining bitterly about her father. Patrick had endured this with perfect grace for the first few minutes, but her griping was starting to get on his nerves, "You're nearly 23, why don't you just move the hell out of your parent's house."

"You know how hard it is to get an apartment, at least one that isn't riddled with drug dealers and prostitutes."

Patrick gave her an antagonistic look. Josephine and he had gone back and forth several times about his apartment, "Jesus, I'm just out of school. I don't know what you expect."

Josephine gestured vaguely outside the window, "Jersey City is scary, look at it."

"I live here. I see this every time I go outside. I really isn't that dangerous, just aesthetically displeasing."

"There is no way that the Red Army could patrol all of those abandoned buildings."

"Why would they need to?"

Josephine was about to speak, but instead she held her tongue. She knew that one of her father's biggest complaints about Patrick was his involvement with activities that fell into the 'not entirely legal' genre. Granted, she wasn't exactly happy with his recreational choices, but it wasn't her father's place to judge the sort of people she associated herself with. She shrugged half-heartedly, "Perhaps because that entire subculture is dangerous."

"Only if you're stupid about it. Besides, the Army's purpose is to protect the Keywork. You know, terrorists and all that crap."

Josephine had no real response to that. She was a member of the school of believe that a government should serve and protect its individuals from tangle threats. Phantom stories of a rebellion did nothing for her, she felt as if they just pushed the Fence closer to another Mage war. The first war between the Prise and the Mages had been a bloodbath. It was fortunate that it was long before her time. The parents of her generation saw only the last few years of a war that had lasted eons. She had never known life in warfare, but she wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of doing such. Wilhelm Ryan had been appointed supreme tri-mage at the war's end, he'd ruled God's Fence ever since then. The laws were a bit Spartan sometime (God knew that she had been written up enough times for breaking curfews) but all in all she didn't think that Ryan and his Red Army had really done anything that warranted rebellion.

As she and Patrick dove deeper into Jersey City familiar prickling of fear crept down her spine. The population of the colony has dropped dramatically since they had built the Gloria vel Vessa at the end of the first Mage war. The spaceport the largest in sector 11, and the only one equipped to travel between the sectors. However useful it might've been to the masses, nobody wanted to live near the noise of a spaceport. As the Gloria vel Vessa grew Jersey City's citizens fled. Save the poorest inhabitants of the colony that lacked the means to move to a location more suitable for living, most of the colony was abandoned. The old buildings were drift with drug lords and street gangs, "Patrick. I'm honestly scared. Let's just go to your place."

"Babe, I have some errands that I gotta run."

Josephine was silent once again. She just closed her eyes and sullenly crossed her arms over her chest. All of the things that Coheed had said about Patrick held a certain ring of truth to them, but it was too late now. There was no better way out of her life in Valley Hills. He tried to tell herself that Patrick knew what he was doing. After all, he lived around here, and if anything he was a prizefighter. He could protect her. She just had to pray to God that her assumptions were correct, down the street she saw the yellow jackets of the Jersey City Devils, "Patrick…"

"What babe?"

"I want to go home."

"Hah, you're afraid of those bastards? They're not going to bother us. Listen when you've lived in the old city for as long as I have you know that they don't really do anything other than vandalized old shit and take synthemesc."

"Patrick they're coming up to the car!"

"Babe, don't let them scare you…"

One of the Jersey Devils suddenly pulled a chain out of the depths of his pocket. Josephine let out an ear-splitting scream as the chain smashed into the windshield of the car. Everything was confusion and glass. Josephine couldn't tell what was happening, only that she heard Patrick yelling in the distance for her, she felt a heavy body against hers and a stranger's breath press near her neck…dear God…She screamed again as a stranger's hands held her down.

Coheed and Cambria were sitting silently in their living room. Neither one of them spoke, and in all honesty neither one of them had anything relevant to say to each other. They had killed their children. They weren't who they thought they were. Their entire world had just been rearranged in the span of a few hours. Cambria felt sick to her stomach, and slightly woozy. Old memories of what they had done before their memories were wiped returned to her whenever she let her mind wander too far, only, she couldn't really make any sense of them, and they all seemed to boil down to the simple fact that she had played a hand in killing her babies. She was nearly oblivious of her husbands growing delirium.

Coheed had fallen into a restless sleep, only one would hesitate to call it sleep. Faint images flickered through his mind, images of Josephine. He saw her in the car with Patrick. They were fighting, but Coheed couldn't tell what about. His dreams were in graytone and left out all but the barest of details. They were driving through the old part of Jersey City (That bastard!) and then everything seemed to blow up. Coheed was sure that he saw Mayo smash open the window of their car and then everything was a blur. In his dreams Coheed had merged reality with his own fiction. He saw his daughter get brutally raped, but it wasn't by the miscreants of Jersey City, it was by Mayo Deftinwolf. A bubble of rage burst in his sleep and he tried to call out to her to run. To run as fast as she could. To that Mayo turned and smiled and said, "When you run, we'll follow…"

Coheed woke up with a jolt and found himself sitting on his couch next to his wife. Cambria hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep and looked at him impassively. Coheed tried to shake the vision he had received from his dream. Cambria shook her head, "You shouldn't let dreams scare you…"

"Josephine…"

"Everything will be over soon."

Miles away, on the corner of an abandoned street in Jersey City a young couple lay in a mess of glass. Josephine had curled herself tightly into a ball and was leaning against Patrick's car trying to glean some sense of comfort from it. Patrick was sprawled bloody a few feet away from her. Her mind was stuck. She didn't know what to do, she couldn't move, she couldn't even check to see if Patrick was still breathing. The only thing she could think about was how she'd been violated. Her breath caught in her chest and she was shaking. Everything had gone wrong. Patrick hadn't listened to her. He wasn't able to save her. She just wanted to go home. She didn't want Patrick. The only man she wanted to be wrapped in was her father. He could protect her from anything…he wouldn't have let them do that to her…

Patrick stirred himself awake. His entire body ached horribly, but he didn't consider himself his first priority. He set his blackened and blurry eyes to Josephine. She looked certainly disheveled and exhausted, but alive, "My sweet Josephine…are you okay…?"

She stared blankly into middle space, and said absently, "Please take me home…"

"Listen," he painfully moved towards her and put his hands on her shoulders, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry please. I didn't…I didn't. Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Her expression didn't change, "Please. I just want to go home…"

He helped her to her feet, and brushed glass off of her seat, cutting himself in the process. He felt rage bubble inside of him, "I'll make those bloody bastards pay. They'll be dead on the side of the road bloody and screaming and—"

"Please…just take me home."

Patrick, shaking with rage and weakness got into the diver's seat and, having no other choice, began driving her home.


End file.
